


Rabid Sex Alien

by orphan_account



Series: The Telepath's Immortal [2]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Awesome Toshiko Sato, Episode: s01e02 Day One, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-10-02 20:24:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10226546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Toshiko had never seen Ianto look so pale; he wavered on his feet, barely mustering a reassuring smile at her.His mental defences were crumbling, and all for one rabid sex alien.She hoped it was just for this one rabid sex alien. She hoped it wasn't a more permanent fixture (Gwen) of Torchwood.





	1. Toshiko Sato Needs to get Drunk More Often (and worry less)

The pub was packed with writhing figures, some dancing - those of which who had dared seemed severely drunk - and some only trying to actually get to seats without jostling their drinks. Speaking of drinks...yes, it was Tosh that Ianto could see armed with a fresh set of fancy cocktails they’d gotten for the hell of it after a stressful day of respite (stressful given the fact they Ianto had to sort out Gwen’s new work credentials - the police force seemed all too happy to comply, thankfully).

“A ‘Poisoned Apple’ for the lovely telepath,” Tosh announced when she reached him, setting down a wine glass filled with a dark green - and poisoned if Ianto’s instincts were anything to go off - liquid, sloshing up against the rim as Tosh set it down. A slice of apple balanced precariously on the side of the glass.

“And for a much lovelier lady...something with an umbrella? And what looks like a palm tree, but I honestly couldn’t be sure,” Ianto replied, curiously leaning forward to examine her fruity, lemon-yellow cocktail. Giggling, Tosh took a sip, grimacing slightly at how sweet the concoction was, before explaining that it was called, quite atrociously, ‘Cardiff Cocktail’. Ianto applauded the pub’s lacklustre attempt, but it was rather dull at best.

“Well, then. Gwen is due in tomorrow. I do wonder, are you going to tell anyone your deepest, darkest secrets before she figures them out herself and everyone starts to- is that my phone?”

Tosh broke off, glancing down at her mobile, sighing forlornly; a buzz at Ianto’s thigh signalled his own text and he assumed correctly, given the fact Tosh’s usually perky features had turned into a sullen mask, that it must have been Jack. He took a sip of his drink, the liquid bitter on his tongue, gathering in the back of his throat unpleasantly. He’d certainly be glad to leave it behind but had hoped he could spend even a slightly longer amount of time with his Linkmate.

“I’ll drive us to the Hub, then? It must be rather urgent if we have to go in, in the middle of our quite wonderful evening,” Ianto remarked, the pair already on the way out of the jam-packed pub. The journey back to the Hub was silent, but not awkwardly so, Tosh’s emotions and Ianto’s reassurances that ‘yes, it will be important, and yes, we will go out again sometime in the next week, don’t worry’ ringing clear through their bond. Given how close they were at, half a foot away from each other in the car, Ianto felt Tosh’s emotions almost as if they were his own. And, to an extent, her annoyance was shared.

Owen was already in the Hub when they arrived from the Tourist Centre entrance, pouting in a surly sort of way (though if Ianto said anything about his extraordinarily child-like glower, Owen would proceed to sit a usually non-squeamish Ianto down and explain, with diagrams and pictures, all the ways he could poison/maim/break Ianto’s body. His sinister tone isolated would have even the bravest of foes quivering, so Ianto wasn’t all that disappointed in himself).

The captain appeared from his office, a self-sure grin plastered across his face and his phone in hand. Tosh grimaced unnoticeably at how cheery he was at such a late time of night, in which any normal person would be asleep. ‘We weren’t asleep, though, Tosh. You’re rather hypocritical when you’re so tired.’ Ianto’s comment earned him the equivalent of a death glare telepathically.

“Toshiko, Ianto! There’s been a meteor, countless witnesses and a new exciting case - well, it’s a meteor, so not exactly the most riveting, but I need the entire team to help analyse it. Gwen is coming with us too- the first day comes early. She must be so pleased to see my frankly gorgeous face once more,” Jack reported, amused, his hands waving, flourishing as he strode across the room, his steel-grey military coat flowing like water behind him. He glanced at Tosh and Ianto for a second, his eyes narrowing slightly before his features softened out again into a slightly faker smile than before.

“Ianto, if you’d prefer to take shelter from the cold Cardiff air and go home, that would be perfectly acceptable. Or you can monitor from, er...however you manage to always monitor us,” Jack remarked, staring at him, but not once meeting Ianto’s eye. Did he seem almost guilty? Jealous? Even with their Link, Ianto struggled rather badly to read the immortal.

Tosh seemed reluctant to leave Ianto, the conversation about his powers in relation to Gwen still on the tip of her tongue; she was anxious, even though she knew Ianto would most definitely have some form of precaution if Gwen ever did find out. ‘You do, don’t you?’

Ianto didn’t honour the query with a response, but Tosh relaxed at the read of his emotions; a sharp burst of irritation and then the smoothness of promise of affirmation. Only after this did Tosh leave, following Jack, Owen and a massive bag of equipment out the garage door. Ianto settled, breathing in the almost ambivalent air - if air could be ambivalent.

He set up quickly, tapping into the security cameras in the Hub and creating a relay, unobtrusive to anyone who wasn’t looking specifically for it. Then, he flopped onto a chair, settling into his meditative position, slipping deep into his mental recesses.

It was like seeing through the eyes of an eagle, vision sharply honed as he glided across Cardiff. It was an illusion, he understood as much despite how real the wind felt against his stolen feathers, he knew that it was simply a mixture of his team’s projections and his own elemental magic that allowed him to see what they saw.

Gwen was at the scene of the meteor, her dark eyes glinting in the alarmingly bright lights around the crash site. She seemed incredibly cocky for her first time in the field, even for a simple clean-up operation; Ianto cursed inwardly at the fact Jack had dared to bring her with them, to show favouritism already in such a blatant manner (moreover, Gwen had no training in the field, an irritation he read quite clearly for the rest of the team).

Discreetly, as she was working on setting up her equipment, Jack approached Toshiko, a confident smile plastered across his face. Awkwardly, Tosh attempted to focus on her work, before finally growing sick of the silence and snapping none-too-kindly at the captain, ‘Anything that I can help you with, Jack?’

Furrowing his brow slightly, Jack sniffed, glancing at Tosh’s flushed face, more brazen attitude and the sickly bitter-sweet scent of alcohol on her breath, and put two and two together. “Have you been drinking Toshiko? On the job?”

And by the Old Gods, Ianto hadn’t seen Toshiko so defensive since he asked her once (although, he was forgiven considering a large amount of exhaustion and far too much morphine - don’t ask - had been involved) why she thought so much about sex. It was a coarse situation and Ianto felt honestly terrible for prying, guilty no matter how many times Tosh forgave him.

“On the job? No, I would never be so stupid - I had left work. But yes, to answer your question, Ianto and I went to the pub and had a few drinks, before you rudely interrupted our quite delightful evening for a meteor and then accused me, me of all people, that I was drunk,” Toshiko fumed in a low tone, earning a suspicious glance from Owen and a gargoyle-like glare from Gwen - possessive already, Ianto noticed, before he occupied himself with Toshiko.

His Linkmate was too far away from him for them to actually communicate properly; Toshiko probably wouldn’t even recognise Ianto’s transmitted emotions as something foreign, accepting them easily as her own. With Jack’s genuine bona fide apology and Ianto’s soothing caresses against Tosh’s delicate mind, the Asian woman calmed, producing her own meek ‘sorry’ for her outburst.

Jack straightened up again, allowing Owen and Tosh to work, gracefully launching tools towards them both, grinning microscopically when the pair caught them with ease. Jealousy and a twinge of immaturity expressed by ‘I could do that, but I don’t wanna’ permeated like a fizzing cloak of negative electricity from Gwen. Flinching, Ianto diverted his gaze, the harshness of Gwen’s emotions still unbearable for him to assimilate quite so readily to - and certainly not when he was so deep into everyone’s projections as it was - and berated himself for even seeing what was right in front of him.

If Jack trusted Gwen, Gwen should be trusted by the team.

His self-reassurance seemed less accurate when Gwen rather passive-aggressively (if one could even achieve such a thing) threw a large chisel towards Owen, the tool falling short and digging itself into the meteor. Feeling a surge of panic, Ianto was almost pulled out of the vision, but he tampered down the emotion, even when an infectious cloud of amethyst purple gas spiked up from the gaping wound.

Gas masks were put on. Gwen seemed to struggle with hers, her fingers fumbling from a grip to secure it behind her head, an unnecessary precaution, but Ianto hissed anxiously to himself when the gas seemed to stare at Gwen, cocking its ‘head’ curiously to the side. And then, it whirled around, rising up from the cavern the meteor had left and passed almost purposefully straight through where Ianto would have been if he was on the physical plane at the time.

Oh, did it hurt? It was like pressing on an almost healed bruise all over Ianto’s body, leaving behind a stiffness that wouldn’t desert him for at least a week. But the screaming agony as he was ripped from every one of his team’s minds all at once and left in deafening silence was something Ianto could barely deal with.

Somehow, he managed.

 

* * *

 

Tosh, the angel that she was, warned Ianto ahead of time that the team was returning to the Hub. She spoke on the phone, in rushed Japanese, explaining empathetically the events she’d been so ‘privileged’ to witness. “Calm down, clover. Gwen is new to all of this, she deserves a second chance...don’t sigh at me, I’m just as pissed as you, but we would have made similar mistakes if we were in her situation.’

It was laughably easy to hack into police databases, and find a recent - barely reported twenty minutes ago, according to the short, snappy file - murder? Death? The police were, of course, at a standstill as to what to call the unusual occurrence.

The file was almost finished printing, first pages pleasantly warm to the touch, when the alarm sounding, alerting Ianto of the team’s return. Aggravatingly, Gwen sounded very much like a broken, whining record as she monologued. “I’m so sorry.’

Wearily replying, Jack sighed under his breath, turning to face the pacing Welshwoman. “Seriously, stop saying that.”

“But I am. I mean, really. I mean really, really sorry. God, I can't believe it,” Gwen replied, her bottom lip pouting out so dramatically that Ianto wondered if it stuck out more, it would begin to drip, like melting wax, down Gwen’s pointed chin. “I’ll sort it. Whatever’s happened, I’ll deal with it.”

Ianto admired Gwen’s avid determination, but he couldn’t help but chuckle slightly at the self-sure proclamation. How on Earth would a woman who didn’t even believe in aliens, and possibly still didn’t, ‘sort out’ an alien threat? Deciding to make himself known, he cleared his throat, holding up the file report.

“There’s been a strange nightclub death, called in on 999. Might be connected,” he said, stifling a smirk at Owen’s incredulous reaction, distracting him momentarily from Gwen’s turbulent thoughts, that he still couldn’t shield from properly, the strength of them increasing as he hurried up the wire-grated staircase. “How did you get them so fast?”

In the midst of Owen’s charming obliviousness, only Toshiko noticed Jack stand up suddenly straighter at the sight of Ianto, gazing appreciatively at Ianto’s long, lean, perfectly poised frame. Twitching slightly, Jack chewed at his bottom lip when Ianto threw his head back and laughed at Owen. ‘If only Ianto could see Jack’s attraction like the rest of us can,’ Tosh mused disappointedly, ensuring that her mind was closed off to Ianto’s at the time.

Shrugging as if a toddler could answer the query, Ianto replied simply to Owen, “Tosh rang me when she was heading back in the SUV.” Without thinking, Owen stupidly repeated the same question, a little more insistent this time. “How?!”

Laughing softly, Ianto made a mobile motion with his pinky and thumb, waving them by his face for a moment, smirking at Tosh and Jack’s amused reactions behind the medic. “With a phone, Owen. Are you feeling quite alright?”

Crossing his arms in mock annoyance, Owen stood his ground. “Yeah, we all heard he in the SUV, but - and you have no way out of this one - she was speaking Japanese! Explain that, Tea Boy.”

Toshiko burst of giggling, the abrupt, lively sound filling the autopsy room quite pleasantly, allowing Ianto a new focus besides Gwen’s blind panic and exasperation at the team’s light joking. “He can speak more than English, you know? Honestly, Owen, do you even think before opening your mouth?” Tosh cackled, the otherwise horrendous insult sweetened by her playful tone. She was awfully more transparent when she was tipsy.

“Can we maybe focus on this? Someone could be severely hurt, and you guys are all joking around. We should go to this club, Night Spot,” Gwen interrupted haughtily, her cryptic gaze focussed only on Ianto and Toshiko.

Marching up the stairs, Jack nodded curtly. “Gwen’s right. Ianto, you don’t mind staying at the Hub whilst we go check out the club? Just as, er, precaution,” Jack improvised, an alluring smile all he needed to pass the desperate attempt to keep Ianto near him - Jack was still battling with the more-than-sexual feelings he may have for the Welshman and was surprisingly possessive as he tried to figure himself out.

The gods must have been on his side, for Ianto smiled slightly, murmuring a quiet assent. Jack pushed away from the guiltiness he felt at the sight of the dark circles under Ianto’s eyes, before turning on his heel and leaving once more, with his team following at his heels.

 

* * *

 

“We-e-ell, hello there, my lovely multilingual friend. How might you be this cold morning? Still awake?”

Tosh’s sing-song voice trailed through Ianto’s comms just as he finished his second cup of hell-fire hot coffee. The woman’s pointed emphasis on ‘multilingual’ brought a fond grin to Ianto’s pursed lips: Owen’s silent glare rang clearly through the earpiece.

“I’ve had industrial strength coffee, so I don’t believe I’ll be collapsing any time soon,” Ianto replied, and at Tosh’s hankering ‘ooh’, he added nonchalantly, “Yes, there is enough for you too, Toshiko. But, I don’t feel like this is simply a social call - I’m hurt, of course, but time heals all wounds. What did you find?”

In a deadpan tone, Toshiko commented, “Man has sex in a kinda sleazy nightclub bathroom. Security Guard gets off to it from the CCTV. Man ‘finishes’ and disappears into a cloud of gold, which leaves behind some strange, ashy residue. Oh, not Security Guard’s kink. Security Guard likes both parties to be living. Security Guard is having a panic attack.”

Ianto snickered loudly, astonished at Tosh’s bold language (she really needed to be drunk more often, really needed to be) but grateful for the hilarity. However, his face quickly fell when Tosh finished her sentence. “I’m sending you some security camera footage. I need you to start putting it through facial recognition software. I know, stop groaning, it’s the most boring thing alive, but I just need a tiny, tiny bit of help.”

At Ianto’s prolonged grumbling, Tosh gave one final dig, in a melodious tone, “You love me, don’t you?”

“That was a low blow, Sato.”

 

* * *

 

The recognition software was one of the best of it’s time (well, of course, Toshiko helped remodel it two years ago, of course, it would be fantastic) but it still took a while to process all the information from the databases in Wales. Ianto, armed with coffee for the rest of the team, which each accepted greatly - Owen’s smile was begrudging at best, but Ianto would take it - worked with Tosh to sort through the readings Owen had already gathered from the meteor in relation to the ash residue found at the nightclub.

Despite the rather serious situation, which the rest of the team had already become accustomed to, the atmosphere was no longer suffocating with tension, instead, a relaxed, pleasant breath of fresh air.

Gwen found a way to spoil it.

Realistically, Ianto knew that the woman only wanted to share part of herself with the team, she was simply curious, maybe too curious, about the rest of the team’s lives, but it was oh so agitating when the ex-PC constantly brought up how different Torchwood was to ‘normal people’.

“Rhys, my boyfriend, is a transport manager. He does this sort of stuff. On a slightly smaller scale, though,” she remarked, grinning almost smugly at the fact that even at this moment, Jack was very much like her boyfriend (Ianto imagined the appeal was also that Jack was not, despite Rhys seemed to be a lovely bloke).

Humouring the woman, attempting to ease the spiky stress between them, Tosh enquired, “You have a boyfriend?” This encouraged Gwen to speak more, and Ianto was so very proud of his clover to dip into enemy territory with no retreat plan. Spinning to face the Asian woman with a satisfied smile, Gwen answered, “Yeah,” as if having a boyfriend was the most normal thing in the world; well, Ianto supposed, it probably is, actually. And then, “Have you?”

At Owen and Tosh’s negative, Gwen crossed her arms, unconvinced and just that slightest bit complacent, delivering the final blow. “None of you have partners? I’m not being rude here, but how do you manage? What do you even do in your spare time?”

Tosh blushed, embarrassed and upset at Gwen’s insulting comments, slivers of self-doubt creeping into her mind. Angrily, but containing himself with a tight mask, Ianto replied for them all, pleased that Jack turned to scrutinise Gwen with rich animosity because of her words. “This may surprise you Gwen, but romance is not a feature completely necessary to life. We have friends and family - we get by just as any non-Torchwood person would. We simply adjust to life here. Don’t think for a second that just because you have a relationship, you are somehow better than us.”

Owen raised a hand lazily, nodding in agreement with Ianto. “I second what Tea Boy said. And if inspirational talks don’t work, I just try to torture people in happy relationships. And usually, it works.”

 

* * *

 

“We’ve narrowed down the results to 119. The camera footage was far too low of a resolution, so I couldn’t really get an accurate match,” Toshiko explained, sighing quietly, not wanting to show her exhaustion so plainly across her pretty features.

Owen, on the other hand, had no quarrel with notifying the team how unimpressed he was at the computer. “Damn. A hundred and nineteen suspects? This thing's supposed to give us a single clear match,” he groaned, accepting Ianto’s gift of coffee - he’d already had two cups by the time they’d finished up in Jack’s office, but he would be an idiot to refuse any type of caffeine from Ianto Jones.

Grinning proudly when Tosh reiterated her point, Ianto handed Jack his own cup of liquid gold, suppressing a bark of laughter when the captain’s face twisted into that of overly dramatic enjoyment. Lack of sleep tended to do that to Ianto: he was more confident, more sarcastic and much more giggly.

Remembering Owen’s astounded reaction from earlier that day (night?), Ianto strolled over to rest languidly against Tosh’s chair. “It's narrowed the numbers down. I could check through the rest. You know, the old fashioned way. With my eyes,” he pointed trenchantly to his own eyes. “I’m sure it’s another foreign concept to Owen, just like multilingualism.”

Owen cackled, laughing at his own dispense. After seeing Jack’s eyes creased with mirth, Gwen tried to force a smile of her own. She was trying so desperately to fit into the team, but it wasn’t the time or the place. A girl was possessed by some alien that she had let loose, and they weren’t helping her to fix it!

As a ditch effort, she asked sharply, “What about the fingerprints I took off the alley wall?”

‘NO MATCH’.

After a few harsh, barbed phrases from Owen, Gwen stormed out of the Hub, Jack following dutifully after her. Ianto tried not to feel a twinge of hurt at that, reminding himself once more that these types of reactions from Gwen and Jack were entirely natural. “Lay off Gwen, yeah?”

Scowling, Owen crossed his arms, retreating to his med bay to conduct some more entirely unnecessary experiments on the meteor fragment they’d taken the day before. Although he had telepathic abilities, Ianto had been oblivious to Owen’s emotions. He was Second in Command now, taking his rightful place after Suzie, but it was Gwen that was getting all the attention. Owen felt just as replaced and dejected as he and Tosh did.

Ianto was wrenched out of his thoughts by a sudden spike, like a pitchfork hurled with massive force against his abdomen, leaving a bruising, phantom ache. His Linkmate beside him immediately noticed when Ianto doubled over, intending to shout for Owen as she ran her surprisingly smooth hands soothingly over Ianto’s bent spine. Hissing through his teeth, Ianto grasped at Tosh’s shoulder tightly, stopping her.

“G-get your computer, so we have the suspect list. I-I think...it’s the alien, not me th-that’s hurting. I think I know w-where she is.”

 

* * *

 

Toshiko had Ianto bundled into the SUV, a tube of pills and one in her hand to give to him when Jack’s voice cut through the car park. She spun on the ball of her foot, schooling her features into the most naive and innocent facade that she could. “Where are you going, Toshiko? We’re in the middle of a case.”

Gwen was behind Jack, her eyes visibly reddened even from the distance she was away from Tosh. “I...Ianto and I were just going over to my place - we’ve been working on modulations for the facial recognition software. It’s just more in depth, might help us narrow the results down even more,” she lied smoothly, taking encouragement from Ianto’s slightly musky presence in her mind - he was only ‘musky’ (if a group of thoughts could even be described as musky. Tosh supposed that she and Ianto followed different rules of description than any other person).

“Why wasn’t I told about this? And what makes it so different from the improvements you’ve already made?” Jack queried, coming closer forward to meet Tosh. Panicking slightly. Toshiko hurried forward instead, her body and the distance shielding Ianto’s pained, clammy, pale face from Jack’s observation.

“We did tell you, I’m sure about it. And even if we didn’t, it was only a pet project - it, er, can process people’s routes, cross referencing them from the scene of the crime and the victim’s address, searches for possible face matches on social medias around the area, et cetera, et cetera.” When Jack still looked sceptical, Tosh followed up with, “What other chance do we have? We’re all just trying to find solutions here, there’s nothing wrong with that, is there? We won’t take more than fifteen minutes, please?”

After a second of decision, which felt like a century and a half to Toshiko, Jack finally mumbled his consent, patting Tosh, emboldening, on the shoulder. He disappeared from Tosh’s view, back into the Hub, leaving Tosh with only Gwen.

The ex-PC smiled briefly, genuinely, and Toshiko felt a spark of hope that maybe the pair could be friends after all. “Thanks for helping out. It really means a lot, considering I made such a big mistake.”

With that, she turned around, strolling back from whence she came, abandoning Tosh with a heap of questions - the main being ‘What in God’s name did Jack tell Gwen to get her to be so...nice all of a sudden?’

Refusing to waste more precious time, Toshiko ran to the SUV, clambering into the driver’s seat. Ianto swallowed down the offered painkiller without resistance. The were four or five minutes into their journey when he sharply ordered Tosh to turn left. “I think that when I was...monitoring the, er, crash site, what-e-e-ever alien this thing is, it, er, passed through my mind. I suppose, it-it’s sort of latched onto it,” Ianto explained feverishly, sweat on his brow at battling the almost constant pain. He really didn’t envy whichever poor woman that this creature had possessed.

“So, is this based on pain? How you know where you’re going?” Tosh pondered out loud, obediently turning the directions Ianto kept gasping out, anxious at the way her Linkmate’s brow was creased with concentration and licks of spasming hurt.

“That at the list of addresses for the possible subjects. I’ve narrowed it down a bit more, so I’ve only got 24 suspects, and there’s only two at the moment that I think it might be. Ah! Right, turn right here, she’s close. Call Jack!”

Tosh did so, trying to tamper down her frantic tone - she had a right to be worried, of course. Ianto’s mental shields were some of the strongest in the community, or so she had been told, and he’d never suffered this way before, even in the midst of a rabid telepathic alien three months ago. This was nothing compared to that incident, but Ianto could barely breathe because of it.

The rest of the team arrived by the road she had described, near to where ‘Carys’ lived, in the alleyway behind, in Owen’s car. Tosh almost regretted bringing the SUV but knew that the only way that they’d actually find Carys’ address before another murder was not on foot. Toshiko and Jack took the back entrance, both armed with guns, Jack’s finger on the trigger of his .38 Webley, surreptitious as always.

Ianto, Gwen and Owen took the front door, thanking whichever divine being that had smiled upon them that day for the fact the door was unlocked. Silently, the crept into the house, Gwen self-assuredly set off in the direction of the living room, where Carys and a rather dishevelled postman were lying on the sofa. Ianto stayed in the doorway, whilst Owen took a better leverage point on the stairs, breathing heavily already with adrenaline through his gas mask. Ianto himself did not have the bright white, protective gear that the rest of the team did - he and Tosh didn’t have time for anything but the horrendously unflattering gas masks.

The postman passed them both as he ran out, pants held up only by his quivering hand. Swiftly followed by a sharp yell of ‘Gwen, look out!’ in Jack’s curt American accent and Carys fleeing form and a sudden burst of agony pressing fiercely up Ianto’s temples, shooting throughout his body. Distantly, he heard Owen explain what the inflatable cell was to Gwen and Jack reprimanding him for taking it away from the Hub without expressive permission, but everything else was a blank. He was glad, at least, that the pain he felt in such close proximity to Carys hadn’t caused him to keel over with pain or do something as equally revealing.

His face must have betrayed his shell-shocked mind. Usually, Ianto would have felt a sharp burst of pleasure at Jack heeding such notice to him, put he felt nothing but confusion, his mind not even registering the question before he actually answered it. “Ianto? Still with us?”

 “Fine, yeah, m’fine,” he hummed, stumbling forward, away from the door and towards Carya and God, that was a bad idea. Toshiko, her concern dipping hesitantly against the walls of his thoughts, realised this and darted forward, stopping him with a firm hand splayed across his collarbone and chest. “I’ll drive Ianto back. I think he just needs some sleep.”

Not waiting for a response from the captain, Tosh ushered Ianto away, guiding him unyieldingly to the SUV. Ianto struggled slightly, his vision hazy with the pain, barely seeing his Linkmate; once he understood who’s mind it was lulling him quietly into submission and silence. He sagged heavily against the seat when Tosh got him in the car, mumbling feverishly, his back arching inhumanly in discomfort.

She made sure to arrive at the Hub before the rest of the team, running a few red lights, but determined in her mission. Once they parked up in the garage, she got out, racing to the other side of the car before Ianto was his usual destructive self and exert himself too much.

“Hey! Hey, hey, hey - Ianto, let me help you, it’s going to be fine, just let me help you, you’re in too much pain,” Tosh murmured, half to the Gifted and half to herself. His skin was damp with sweat and his hair was curling at the tips with moisture; when Tosh made to grab at his side, to help with the burden of his own (rather light, the only mass actually coming from lean ropes of muscle hidden under fitted suits) weight, Ianto hissed animalistically, still tender.

It took an unpleasantly long amount of time to get down to the lower levels of the Hub, but Ianto refused help for the most part and they were unable to walk more than a few steps at a time before the telepath began relying on Toshiko once more. By the time Toshiko had him settled in a conveniently empty room by the Archives (Tosh assumed it would have been the Archiver’s office, but Ianto preferred to work in the Archives themselves) with some fluffy, yellow and black blankets she kept for similar occasions such as these, Jack and the rest of the team had disembarked in the middle levels.

“The cell is ready for you,” she stated, brushing her hair away from her face in an attempt to be more presentable. Thank God Ianto had reminded her, in case the team showed up early and she needed an excuse for being in the Archives.

Jack opened his mouth, his face twisted into that of concern, but Tosh answered the unspoken question before he could finish. “Ianto is all good now - just needed some painkillers and water. Poor guy has no sense of self-preservation, I swear. Sometimes doesn’t eat or sleep for days on end, and he’s been worrying a lot more lately, and I-”

Realising that she was rambling and Jack appeared more than a little inquisitive about Ianto’s well-being and that would cause secrets that weren’t hers to spill to spill and that really couldn’t happen, Toshiko snapped her mouth closed with an audible click as her teeth scraped against one another disagreeably.

“Hey, er, guys? Gwen’s got...a little problem, down in the vaults. You should probably come check it out.”


	2. Ianto Jones can Smell Sounds

Carys was admittedly a rather attractive young woman - her face was soft but prettily defined around the edges. Her eyes were wide and brown and trusting, somewhat covered by the slightly damp, frizzy waves cascading down her back. Yes, she was rather pretty, and under different circumstances (if the teen had a slightly higher age), Tosh could imagine herself quite liking the woman.

But even if Tosh had Mila Kunis, or Chris Evans - both prominent features in her late night fantasies - in the vaults, craving orgasm, she wouldn’t just...do whatever it was Gwen was doing.

“Happy birthday, me,” Owen murmured half to himself, and Toshiko felt distinctly uncomfortable at the apparent arousal from the medic - and from Jack, as well. He stared just as intensely at the poor quality camera footage, his arms crossed over his chest, clearly appraising the two women. It irked Tosh that he could be so worried about Ianto one second (albeit, he only let those walls down if Ianto himself wasn’t there to appreciate it) and then ready to get hot and heavy with Gwen the next.

Gwen spun Carys around, kissing the young woman back with clear amounts of undignified saliva dripping from her lips even in the low resolution. With the right person and in the throes of passion, Toshiko supposed she could find it hot to see she had made such an effect on anyone, but...Gwen didn’t even know this woman and plus-

“I thought she said she had a boyfriend,” Owen mentioned quietly, gaze not straying from the computer screen. Jack chuckled softly, an otherwise calming sound had Jack not followed it up with the gravelly, “You people and your quaint little categories.”

‘At least some people understand the concept of mutual commitment. Polyamory is a lovely business, I know, but I can’t see Rhys being one to know about his girlfriend’s work escapades with other people.’

Almost angrily, Tosh reminded the two staring men firmly about the dangers Gwen could actually be in, just as the ex-PC’s shirt was torn open. As much as she distrusted Gwen, she didn’t necessarily want her dead.

When Tosh and Jack arrived in the vaults, Carys was standing alone in her cell, staring blankly at the walls. Concern melted from Toshiko’s mind - Gwen was on the phone with her boyfriend, Rhys. ‘Rather comical timing,’ she mused, taking in Gwen’s kiss-bitten lips and hastily buttoned blouse, and the relief stark across her face at the fact the team didn’t see her getting it on with an alien.

Or, at least, that was what Jack allowed her to think, for the time being.

It was hypocritical at best when Gwen pinned Owen against the wall, spewing nonsense about saving Carys’ life (which, yes, Toshiko found she could definitely get behind, but when Gwen talked about Carys’ body being overrun, it lost its effect considering she had been pawing about at that body not five minutes ago).

Ianto’s sudden presence at her shoulder drew her attention away from the scene. The telepath seemed less tired than before, but Tosh knew he couldn’t have slept long, if at all, given they’d only been at the Hub for half an hour and Ianto’s arms were filled with a box of Chinese food.

His cheeks were flushed with cold, and Tosh noticed a fleck of bright yellow fluff from her blankets on Ianto’s shoulder, marring the otherwise perfect, pristine suit. Before she could get a word in edgeways about Ianto really needing to sleep more, the Welshman announced the arrival of food.

“So, who’s for Chinese?”

 

* * *

 

Ianto and Tosh sat beside each other in the meeting room, their legs hooked together, deep in telepathic conversation. The rest of the team didn’t particularly notice, instead focussing on their own meals, ravenous after not eating for countless hours because of the case.

After a few minutes of trying to swallow down her food in vain, Toshiko picked up a bit of chicken rather artfully with her chopsticks, holding it out for Ianto. He glanced quizzically at it, before Tosh insisted, “Try it. Seriously.”

Without waiting for consent, she pushed the morsel towards Ianto’s lips, smirking inwardly when Jack turned to scrutinise the way Ianto’s tongue flicked deftly across his pretty, pink lips, gathering the minuscule stains of flavour. The spell lasted a second before Ianto’s stifled, strangled breath filled the room, followed by a dramatic choking sound.

“I swear, whoever cooks for Jade Wolf is trying to poison you - that’s the third time your food has tasted like actual vomit. Sorry,” he added, registering Owen’s twisted face of displeasure. Moving his own tray of food, conveniently also one of Toshiko’s favourites, he settled into the banter between the rest of the team, revelling in Gwen’s impressed, entertained expression.

Interestingly enough, Gwen didn’t know all that much about Jack, nor did she pretend that she did. She seemed disappointed enough when Owen remarked that Jack was gay, although Ianto and Tosh quickly rectified the situation, distressed that she was upset, despite not particularly liking her.

The pitiful sounds of Carys weeping ruined their otherwise pretty nice meal. Her sobs rung out, tinny over the intercom, and it excruciated at Ianto’s chest, flickers of melancholy rising up in his heart. Jack returned and even though his presence usually filled the entire room, invading every nook and cranny, Ianto barely registered him in the corner of his eye.

Owen switched on the monitor above them, and the defeated slump of Carys’ heaving spine only tugged harsher on Ianto’s mind, pressing and surrounding the walls of his inner mind, his own mind, with Carys’ fear and dejection and exhaustion. It was horrible to see.

“What are we doing having Chinese while a girl fights for her life?” Gwen asked, rhetorically, most likely. Ianto bristled, feeling his brow furrow, because Jesus, did Gwen have to sound so self-righteous, so angry at all of them for not caring as much as she - which really, really was not true. The ex-PC acted as if she had become this young woman’s best friend overnight, but it was Ianto who’d been steadily helping her fight the alien’s hold, even if no-one actually realised.

‘No,’ Ianto reminded himself, a sharp pinch of reprimandation in his head. ‘Gwen doesn’t know what you’re doing to Carys. Gwen knows nothing about your Gift. Gwen is just trying to care.’ It was repeated like a mantra in his brain, but Ianto couldn’t bring himself to believe it when anger still simmered so hotly on the surface of his skin.

“Actually, while we've been eating, the computers have been running a full bio-scan on Carys, profiling her blood, metabolism, organs, skin, the works. So we can see what effect the alien's having on her. They've also been taking samples of the air in the cell so we can analyse and changes in the environment around her. Now, is that enough? Do you want more? Cos it gets kinda boring.”

Ianto felt himself calm slightly at Jack’s words, so very glad that he stood up for his team, like a proper leader. However, Toshiko was still a volcano of agitation beside him, more upset at what the Welshwoman was implying - that they didn’t care about Carys, and God, that couldn’t have been less true, they just didn’t insist on trying to shag a person to make them feel better - than at anything else anyone had ever said to her. (That may have been stretching it quite far, but Ianto knew there was more to Toshiko’s anger than what he read on the forefront of her mind).

The fake smile that Gwen sent them all chilled Ianto to the bone; who was this woman to judge them so harshly? In a monotonous tone, her lips barely twitching from the forlorn simper, Gwen sighed, “You've been hidden down here too long. Spending so much time with the alien stuff, you've lost what it means to be human.”

And by the Old Gods, Toshiko lost it, lost her entire composure for a few tiny words. Leaping up, she stood stock-still for a moment, and Ianto was afraid that she’d say something irreparable. Instead, the young tech’s mind sparked briefly against his own, an invitation, a plea for Ianto to follow after her, that she needed support right now.

Toshiko fled - she bolted out the door, a flurry of movement, a rollercoaster of pressure in Ianto’s skull and a deadly tense room.

Jack was sincere in his next words, almost awed by Gwen, illuminated by the dark glow of the monitor behind her. “So remind us. Tell me what it means to be human in the twenty-first century.”

Ianto chose to follow Toshiko; Jack’s appraisal to Gwen after one of his oldest team members left in basically tears because of her sickened him to the core. He only hoped that those who were more trusted in would be treated like it in the future.

 

* * *

 

It had taken twenty minutes to convince Toshiko to come out of her hiding place in Ianto’s Archives. He was glad to spend time with her, even though it was a tough situation. The air around them smelt of slightly damp oak, a calming scent after Ianto had begun to associate it with his relaxation in the Archives, time spent away from the rest of the team.

Tosh started working on her computer as soon as Ianto had guided her back upstairs, her face blank and tear-streaked, although Ianto had tried to clean her up as much as possible. He gave her a quick, affectionate kiss on the forehead, before returning to the Tourist Office to spend, most likely, the rest of the day.

Not more than half an hour later, Ianto felt a twinge, like a trapped nerve, in the back of his neck, followed by the rush of heady, second-hand pleasure and then heaving, panting, scared breaths. Suddenly, the situation dawned on Ianto and he readied himself, a second too late given the blast of fear from Jack’s mind break past his usually solid mental defences (the only thing stopping Ianto from being able to read his thoughts).

Carys, or rather, the alien inhabiting her appeared a second later, a wild, animalistic look of panic in her eyes. In her hands, she was grasping a glowing, bubbling jar with what seemed to be a human hand, a usually permanent fixture in the Hub - Ianto had no actual idea what the hand represented for Jack, but he knew from the longing contemplation of it that it was in some way important.

Yes, yes, this he could do. He noticed the faint recognition in Carys’ eyes, proving his theory that the alien was somewhat telepathic correct. Hopefully, he would have enough time to persuade Carys to hand over her last bargaining chip and maybe even come back down with him to the Hub- But, no, he was out of luck for today. Jack appeared in the doorway, Webley in protectively in his hands and anxiety fixed in his stare.

“Carys, please. I will let you go - just give me the jar,” he all but snarled causing both Ianto and Carys to flinch, and the young woman to clutch the jar vigilantly to her chest. She backed away further; Jack went to demand again, but Ianto held up a finger, stopping the older man in his tracks. It was a bold move, one Ianto wouldn’t have dared to make even a week ago, but Gwen's arrival had brought new traits out in everyone.

In a soothing, lilting tone, Ianto turned to Carys and appeased her, “Carys? You’re going to do more damage than good if you leave here, and you know it. We can protect you and we can protect everyone else if you put down the jar, hmm?”

Ianto chose to speak Welsh, a language he knew Jack wouldn’t understand so that he could speak freely to Carys and Carys alone - an added bonus was that it seemed to get through to the girl more than Jack’s halted American accent. She seemed to relax like a puppet’s with their strings cut, involuntarily taking a step forward.

Repeating the same few, becalming phrases, Ianto gradually eased Carys forward, barely touching the jar, breath in his throat when Carys stopped and recoiled suddenly, eyes blazing. “If I give you it, will you let me go?”

 Swallowing thickly, Ianto risked a glance at Jack, who stood with his gun still cocked, but trained on the ground. There was a mixture of terror and awe in his eyes when he watched Ianto reach under the desk for the button which released the front door automatically. It swung open on its hinges and a cold breeze of salty air wafted in.

Carys spun, staring at the open quayside for a second, before turning back to Ianto, her legs poising to spring into action. Carefully, she handed the jar over to Ianto, who grabbed at it, sharing an almost dark, knowing look with the alien, before she bolted out the door, slamming it shut behind her.

Jack was by his side in an instant, a deep sigh of relief escaping his fluttering lungs. After scrutinising the jar in his hand for a second, surveying for any dents or cracks or marks, he glanced down at Ianto.

“You are brilliant, you know that?”

Ianto flushed deeply, his words catching in his throat when he tried to reply with a witty remark. Smirking, Jack moved forward, his mind focused on nothing but Ianto’s soft, pink lips and large, innocent blue eyes, and Carys’ fleeing figure didn’t matter-

“Where is she!?” Gwen’s shriek sliced through the spell between Jack and Ianto. The telepath baulked, shuffling his feet nervously away from Jack. “After all I said, a severed hand is more important to you than Carys' life.”

Toshiko, rather than stay and listen to Gwen’s complaints, ran out of the front door, glancing frantically along the quayside and Plass for Carys’ retreating figure. She returned not a few minutes later, shaking her head disappointedly. By that time, Gwen and Jack had disappeared downstairs again, Jack departing with a quick, but sincere ‘thank you’.

The tech went to say something but was interrupted suddenly by the crackle of the intercom - for emergency use only, another of the countless concepts Owen didn’t understand - built into the wall of the Tourist Office.

“Oi. You’d better get down here; autopsy room, now.”

 

* * *

 

 

Ianto had advised Toshiko as soon as they witnessed the rat intestines exploding against the sides of the glass containment unit that he may know where Carys had disappeared to. He explained rather quickly, allowing Toshiko to announce it to the rest of the team, that Carys worked at Conway Clinic - a sperm bank.

Of course, it was Gwen that tagged along like an annoying poodle (Tosh was bitter) rather than the experienced field agent (at least, he was at one point in Torchwood One) of Ianto. Surprisingly enough, Owen offered Gwen a gun, which she took gingerly, her mouth twisting like she had smelt something bad.

It took another five minutes of Gwen’s self-righteous blabbering for the team to pull up by Conway Clinic, speeding into the facility, a solid, singular entity. The receptionist lay on the floor, a dark bruise forming on her cheek and her bleached blonde hair strewn out beneath her, probably tugging quite painfully on her scalp. Cursing under his breath, Owen took the woman’s pulse, giving a sharp nod at Jack’s questioning face.

Further, into the clinic, there was a trail of ash-like piles, spiralling in and out of different rooms, one even on the stairs leading to the office area upstairs. Toshiko felt a probing in her mind, pushing her in the right direction, towards the cowering, fleeing fragility of Carys. “Guys! Over here!”

 Gwen barged into the room, her eyes wide as she took in Toshiko’s loaded gun, the barrel pointed directly at Carys. For a second, she seemed she was going to shout at Toshiko, but the tech gave her a furious look, causing her mouth to snap shut. By the time Tosh had turned her attention back to Carys, Jack and Owen had arrived.

Weeping, Carys glanced at them, her hands clasped over her stomach, tightly wound in pain; she was still battling the alien inside of her. “All this sex. All we see, all we think. So much beauty and so much fear. We want it but we're so afraid of it-”

The young woman cried out in pain, stumbling backwards and collapsing heavily to the ground. Immediately, Gwen raced forward, but Carys recoiled at her searching hands. Instead, she turned her fierce, tear-heavy gaze to Jack - Carys had taken over the alien for a second, but she was disorientated and she could still hear Ianto’s calming dulcet tones in her head.

She couldn’t have discerned the planet she was on if she tried.

Almost violently, Carys begged Jack, pleaded with him. “Remember that yeah? When-when he trusts you- ah! W-when he shows you what he really is, please, j-just remem-remember that he wanted to tell you so badly but he was so very, very afraid. Love him! Promise me that you’ll love him, promise me that you’ll forgive him- no!”

Carys’ emotional appeal cut off suddenly by her wretched, agonised scream. She didn’t have the strength to push Gwen away as she writhed and struggled for breath. Like a mantra, she repeated - the young woman was oh-so-selfless, Toshiko thought, holding back sobs - ‘promise me’, ending up whispering it into Jack’s long military coat. “Who? Tell me who, Carys.”

“The nice one. The one I keep hearing inside my head. The nice Welsh boy with such a big, big secret,” Carys breathed, her voice so low and soft and pained that only Jack and Gwen could hear it. She turned to him, a name on the tip of her tongue, but Jack shushed her, his eyes blazing with anger that Gwen would so selfishly make the entire situation about her own safety.

“One more and I'll be strong. Each time, it works less. Each time, the feeling's weaker. One more. Make me feel alive. Make me feel human,” Carys sobbed, her strained voice raising in pitch. Gwen stared, anguished, down at the Welshwoman, her lips pressed together in a tight smile. “I can’t.”

Carys didn’t mean Gwen.

A golden glow filled Ianto’s senses, and he moaned at the foreign feeling of it singing through his veins - it was so very good, and Ianto’s back arched with rapture, but Owen’s sharp confusion pulled him away again.

The angelical light faded, receding slowly and reluctantly from Carys’ body as she tried to hold it closer, energy thrumming through her skin. She passed out not a second later. Quickly, Gwen was grasping ungracefully at Carys’ skull, pressing hard and willing the parasite to leave her body, take Gwen’s as host.

Toshiko would have scoffed at Gwen’s comment on strength had she not been so concerned and puzzled - to her outrage, Jack simply stood back and allowed Gwen to put her life on the line once more.

Another glow of light, purple and black and threads of pink this time, bathed the room in brightness. Ianto curled into a tight ball, his head in between his knees as the pain hit, the alien too much to handle in its natural form. Gwen closed her eyes and prepared for her doom, dramatically throwing her arms wide. Breath caught in her throat, Toshiko lowered her gun as she stared at the spectacle in awe.

The cell inflated. Jack looked quite smug. The alien screamed, howling it’s pain to the stars - and then, it died.

As if Toshiko’s day couldn’t get any worse, Gwen reached over desperately and planted a wet one on Jack’s lips. Her brows were furrowed in concentration and the sounds she made were moist, but thankfully she pulled away rather swiftly. Jack seemed confused, his face almost wistful like he was remembering a long lost lover - Tosh hoped he was remembering and not hoping for a relationship with Gwen of all people.

 

* * *

 

 

He touched his lip, and then it was over; he stood and they left and Carys was taken back home and Ianto hadn’t bloody slept in two days and now he could smell sounds. Toshiko found him, his eyes downcast and dull and lifeless; supposedly, Tosh had been awake for as long as him, but even the bags under his eyes didn’t look quite so dark and her gaze not so sad and her bones not so weary.

Carys’ beseeching tone crept into her mind and Tosh felt the ever present need to protect this wonderful telepath flare up.

“Come home with me, Ianto. You’re tired. I want to take care of you. Let me take care of you. Please.”

 Glancing up from his computer, Ianto’s cerulean orbs fixed on hers. His irises flickered for a second, the glamour covering his true eyes from the rest of the world failing, and he was spurred into a decision.

“We’ll take care of each other.”


End file.
